"Screw it," Billy whispers into the ash, stomping on his cigarette butt. "Burn the whole fucking place the ground."
As he watches Hawkins go up in baptismal flames, he steals back the tears his sister shed, never for him. There is beauty in watching the paper town fall.
A wave of eerie indifference lingering among the smoke. It doesn't choke him, it welcomes him, like an old friend.
Is this freedom?
"Are you satisfied?" comes the cold, flat voice of Henry Creel.
Billy's dry lips twist into a grimace. "Are you?"
"I thought so. You're doing so well, William. They deserve nothing."
Their shrill screams fill his ears. Their pleas mean nothing to him. Just like his fell on deaf ears.
"More," he says over the roaring blaze, his own voice unfeeling and yet more alive than he's ever felt.
He doesn't feel the least bit sorry. In the end, he is finally the monster they all made him out to be.
He's going to be the last one standing this time.
There's only room for one monster.
No one is taking advantage of me again.
*"**
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